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Chapter 18
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My deepest sympathies to Diero (not really), but it was time for me to run.
Bolting down the hall, I took extra care to jump the Jethryn soup bowl, my cigarette tumbling out of my mouth and tarnishing what was otherwise a perfectly good dish. Better cooked, I imagine. Well anyway, the guttural howls of the Dreamers mad with their infectious host echoed down the chamber, and I knew Diero would be having a hard time dealing with them.
Which is why I kicked off the corner and skidded to a stop in the spongy muck to pick up Jethryn’s lower half. If three were a problem, four might overwhelm him.
Over-encumbered by the extra weight, I staggered to the elevator shaft wondering exactly how Diero would defeat those horrible things. Could their eyes be smothered, like how he defeated the ones that chased us on the bike? Sorry, the stupid, dumb, illogical flying bike with no wheels that didn’t make any sense and makes me mad every time I think about it?
Like, how do you handle forward propulsion without traction to the ground? How do you consistently repel the ground with enough force to stay afloat? If something living were to end up underneath the machine, would it be crushed into paper? Could such a machine operate if the magnetic field around the globe was significantly stronger? Would such a device even be legal for street travel?
Ugh, I… I really need to stop stressing out about how stupid it is before I form a polyp. If that’s even possible in a wooden body. If it is, I should avoid it if I can.
The elevator was still a ruined heap and the cables were still a significant ways up. I stood for a moment, wondering what I should do in regards to ascending, when around the corner came a horrible crashing and scraping, and Diero appeared desperately trying to fight off the three Dreamers possessed by the glowing green force, one of them dedicating a hand to holding the Jethryn soup bowl perfectly aloft and another dedicating a hand to garnishing it delicately with fine spices, all while literally flying into the wall and around the bend.
“FREEDOM! FREE FROM THE TOILOUS CHAINS OF THE UNFORGIVING!!” The maddened voice cackled, making good progress towards the elevator and to my conveniently posessable luggage - and self. “EILRACH WILL LIVE ONCE AGAIN!!”
That was just about it. I turned about and stepped directly into the open palm of Ghid, who raised me illogically high into the air and threw me the remaining distance to the open floor. Taking a brief moment to crawl back to the edge after landing in a crumpled pile with Jethryn’s lower half crushing me, I could see the eldritch entity stretch and twist, somehow larger than he was before, his lightning-like arms slamming into the Dreamers and knocking them about. I turned around and dragged Jethryn’s butt along behind me as quickly as I could. Time was of the essence here.
Returning to the lovely room I had exited before, I found Renner had freed that weird alien-like creature and was supporting him on his shoulder while asking pressing questions. But to no avail, as the answer he received was always identical to the last.
“What’s your name?”
“Photez…” The weak reply was mumbled.
“Ugh, what is Ghid doing here?” Renner was visibly annoyed.
“Ph-Photez…” The same reply was given, much to Renner’s frustration. But not so much as when he lifted his eyes and noticed me in the entryway, prompting him to drop the figure, which teetered towards Cordax and nearly flattened him into a pancake.
“You heard nothing.” Renner growled, then appeared slightly surprised but still very much annoyed when I gestured towards the elevator and continued dragging Jethryn’s better half into the torture chamber room or whatever it had been converted into. Renner stepped out into the hall, and got clotheslined by the impact of three Dreamers, one which was still notoriously Ghid-shaped, all dragging Diero behind.
What a shame. The Jethryn soup must have been spilled in the elevator. Such hours of dedicated culinary mastery thrown away so carelessly.
“DREAM WHIRLING IRON” Renner hurriedly shouted, and before the flames in Diero’s eyes had fully died all the dreamers were carved into multiple segments, the disappointed green gas floating quietly away… And then zipping directly into Jethryn’s lower half. I was sure I had gotten it far enough away.
Ah well, I guess even Tott isn’t infallible. That’s why I had a plan B in store.
Dropping the lower half of Jethryn and pulling a very heavy piece of medical equipment on top of it - not that I had any idea what it was; maybe some kind of halogen dental light - I scrambled to a small table where a blank notepad and a really poor quality ballpoint pen were lying. I swiped the ballpoint pen and crammed it into the yellow figure’s left hand. No one in the room seemed to notice me outside of Cordax, because he was directly under the yellow figure and gasping for breath.
The moment the fingers touched the pen the stranger was thrown to the wall, his hand writing furiously across it, with enough force that everyone in the room froze - even Diero, who had climbed on top of the weird medical light and was trying to curbstomp the lower half.
A certain power seemed to flow from the words which were being written.
WE ARE NOT OUR OWN MASTERS HERE
SON∩S FINDS NEW LIFE IN THE DEPARTED
HE WHO SWALLOWED THE SUN WILL MEET HIS END
CHRONICLER GONE I BID YOU RETURN IN FORM FIT TO FIGHT
STORY DEPARTED FIND NEW LIFE TO BRING ABOUT THE UNDEAD
AND MAY HE WITH IMPERFECTIONS BE FOUND FLAWLESS HERE
During the writing of this scripted scribble the stranger had tugged furiously at his left arm to get it to stop writing, finding unknown energy as he tore at the fingers which refused to relent the pen. The left arm itself had slowly transformed during this, growing very dark and almost sickly, a lot of its identifiable traits lost amidst black flesh, which grew overtop the armor and plates. When they ceased he tumbled onto the floor in a heap, and the dark sinew crept back into the creases of his arm as if it had never been.
“What the heck was that?!” Cordax blurted out, still gasping for the comfort of breathing after being so neatly pressed. “What the heck is going on?”
“Ahh, Horatio.” A silken voice broke upon the scene, the bearer of such a voice lifting the decapitated upper jaw and skull of the Ghid-shaped Dreamer stoically, his lips curled into an ever so slightly frown of disappointment. When he turned to face the party they had split open, sinking under his cheekbones in a wicked and devious smile, his head cocked downwards to enhance the shadow of his brow. “You all have plenty of questions, I gather.”
“Why shouldn’t we just kill you here and now?” Renner growled, bracing as if he would fly suddenly upon the entity much taller than him.
“What was all that writing just now?” Diero mused, chewing on his unlit cigar, not noticing that the Dreamer under his feet had stopped moving.
“Why can’t I feel my legs?” Cordax whined, earning him a glare from almost everyone in the room. Silly Cordax, wanting to ‘have legs’ and ‘be able to walk’. Prioritize properly, kid.
“Where am I?” An unknown voice said. Diero looked down in surprise, and then undid the completely ruined medical equipment prison I had used to keep Jethryn’s lower half from advancing. It stood, looking about, then suddenly glowing a bright white and becoming insufferably hot. “How did-” It muttered, then turning back to normal as a pair of white flaming wings erupted from it.
“Whoa!” They disappeared and the figure stumbled for a moment. “There’s air here, there’s… I can speak. I can see with-” His bizarre fingers dug around in his eye socket for a moment. “Well, I don’t know how I’m seeing, to be honest. But look at this!” He rotated in place, looking at everything in the room and not processing that there were six people staring uncomfortably at him. “There’s people! And gravity! And I can feel things- I can feel the air! I- I-”
“Is this what it’s like?” His eyes gleamed with a wonder and fantastic hope I was jealous of. “Is this what he was talking about? My abandoned purpose to undo- ahh, that doesn’t matter. But is this what he felt? How did he not burst at the seams with the wonder of it all!” He began prancing in small circles as Renner and I shared a disgusted glance at each other.
“Hold on, partner.” Diero was doing the stupid cowboy voice thing again, the one that I hated him for. “We may be surrounded by medical doodads, but that doesn’t make this the psych ward. 'Round these parts we act logical and sane, and use things like reason and unstupidness.”
“That’s not a word.” I mumbled.
“You two!” Jethryn’s remains continued. “You’re both alive, then? How does it feel? Is it any different? Are there more sensations I don’t have? When did you come into being?” He tried with Diero and seeing a completely unresponsive glare in return - probably angry because I said unstupidness wasn’t a word - he then flew upon me. “What about you? Do you breathe, and see, and hear? Can you feel the currents of the air moving around you?” He rotated his arms slowly while staring for a response, but I curled my neck backwards at the massive elongated skull that didn’t understand personal space.
“You!” He turned on Cordax suddenly, who just conveniently found feeling in his legs or something, since he began backpedaling across the floor in terror. "When you wake up in the morning do you feel the sensation of the sun rising? I never felt that, you see, I was only on the opposite end of that experience and I’ve always wondered what kind of splendor was to be felt in-
“SOMEONE GET THE CREEPY TALKING BUTT AWAY FROM ME!!” Cordax yelped, having run into the wall and found himself unable to back up any farther. The exclamation had an interesting reaction, as the yellow figure - who I will call Photez for purposes of clarity; I have no idea if that’s his actual name or not - Rushed across the room and rolled to a standing position, holding the newcomer by the throat in the air. His other hand tried to restrain one of the flailing arms, but to his apparent frustration the Dreamer effortlessly broke his grip every time.
“Do you think and feel and see and breathe, too?” The negative reactions he was receiving did not seem to deter his inquiry. “Can you feel life itself coursing through your veins? Is being alive always this exhilarating?”
“Who are you?” Photez growled, seeing as he was now desperately trying to crush the throat of this stranger and finding it completely immune doubling his strength, adding his second hand in once that also failed, and finally resorting to setting the figure down and leveraging all his strength against that stubborn throat. “WHO ARE YOU?”
“I’m- well, I was the Sound of the Inverted Sun,” The figure gleefully responded, unaware Photez was trying to murder him and end that oh-so-overhyped life of his. “I also go by SON∩S. Nice to meet you!”
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